Spoon
by PoisonDraco
Summary: A romantic comedy about our favorite Hogwarts' poster boys. Amidst potions, lust, and the holiday from Hell, will our boys ever find a way to get together? *SLASH* ::Complete::
1. Dinner and a Dream

Harry rushed towards the Hogwarts' Express; having just been scuttled past the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. With only 4 minutes remaining until the train left, Harry was more than a little stressed about getting on. He couldn't easily forget his second year, flying to Hogwarts in the old Ford Anglia with Ron. He snapped back into reality, having lost another minute. There was no way he was going to miss the train to his 6th year at Hogwarts – he was so near the end.

Three minutes left until departure, Harry dragged his baggage onto the train and looked for a compartment with an open seat. He saw Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Neville sitting in one, but it looked full, and all of their pets had been put onto the last remaining seat. He waved at them half-heartedly and looked on for another seat.

"Looking for someone, Potter?" Harry recognized that drawling tone of Draco's anywhere_. Oh god,_ he thought to himself, _I bet the only seat on the train is in a compartment with Draco Malfoy…_

Just as he had suspected, the only seat left was right next to Draco himself. 

"You look a bit down, Potter. Perhaps a could stick some Filibuster Fireworks in your trousers?" He looked put off by the dullness dripping from his comment. Draco hit himself inwardly, taking all but too much notice of Harry's exquisitely refined legs. _When did I start regarding Potter as more than the biggest annoyance imaginable?_ He smirked for a moment and turned back to Dex Flint and Blaise Zabini. 

"Well, care to join us? Or are your jeans impairing any type of movement?" Harry grabbed the sides of his jeans and pulled them down a bit, hoping they would lose the effect of being far too small. He walked slowly towards the apparently all-Slytherin compartment and carefully took a seat next to Draco. He looked out into the longingly. He'd much rather be trampled by kids moving to and from their seats than sit with a group of the nastiest Slytherins in years. Draco jabbed him in the side with a bony elbow, "Already missing your mudblood friend, Potter? I bet she's rather enjoying herself without you," Draco hissed. 

Harry did seem to notice a lot of noise coming from his friends' compartment. _They must be playing exploding snap_, he thought. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh, nice one. Have you ever considered that you might poke someone's eye out with your sharp wit? I would be rather painful – like a spoon," he chortled, already enjoying the fun he would have all the way to school. Harry didn't even want to move as he heard the audible giggles from Blaise and that horrible…noise, which may be construed as laughter, coming from Dex. 

__

Since when did Harry have time to work out with his muggle family? I've never seen abs that_ heavenly before…_Draco could feel himself being drawn into looking at Harry, and that hurt him more than any beating his father could give him. That should be Rule #1 in the 'Evil Handbook' – Never lust after your worst enemy. 

"Could those two not snog somewhere a little more private?" Harry pointed to Blaise and Dex, who were very wrapped up in themselves in the corner of the compartment, "How can you stand it, Malfoy? Or do you like watching? Little Draco sure seems to be enjoying himself," Harry commented nonchalantly. It was blatantly obvious that Draco had a boner, although Harry wasn't sure why he was looking _anywhere_ on the vicinity of Malfoy, _especially_ his legs. He thought he saw a spark of embarrassment light in Draco's eyes.

"Very funny, Potter, coming from someone who 'accidentally' watched poor Ron and Hermione getting it on in the Three Broomsticks. I really wonder how that whole situation came about," Draco was warming up to insulting Harry by now, although he had begun to squirm – Harry had noticed his…erection. Luckily, Harry had no idea what it was from. Better he think it was because of Blaise and Dex, anyway. He tried to calm himself down, with much success, because Harry's legs were no longer in plain view.

Harry, feeling he had to explain, began, "Well, seeing as they were snogging when I walked in, it wasn't much of a deal – until they saw me of course," Harry blushed, remembering the instance. It was the Christmas visit to Hogsmeade and he had walked into The Broomsticks to get some butterbeer when he had noticed Ron and Hermione kissing. He was stunned to the spot, and before he could leave, Ron and turned around and promptly turned an amazing shade of scarlet, one even deeper than that of Gryffindor.

Draco, thinking he hadn't had enough fun with Harry yet, poked him yet again in the side, but this time, Harry spun around and landed a punch right on his nose. Draco looked stunned for a moment and then punched Harry under the jaw. Harry's head reeled into the side of the compartment and it took a moment for him to come-to. He kicked Draco's shin and punched him in the stomach at once. Draco crumpled like paper and cursed rather creatively. "Potter, you can bet I'll be reporting this to McGonagall as soon as we arrive." 

Harry rolled his eyes and rubbed his chin. For such a thin guy, Draco sure did pack a punch. He leaned his head against the door into the hallway and fell immediately asleep. When he woke up, Ron was prodding him in the side. "Harry, what are you doing in the same compartment as Malfoy, and what's wrong with your face?" He must have been the lovely bruise blossoming under Harry's chin. "Mmph. No where to sit. Save me…" Was his half-waking reply. "Go ahead, Weasley, take him. I bet you've missed him, although I must say, I'd rather have Seamus to keep me company than Potter here." Ron was about to land another hit on Draco's face when the sweets cart arrived in the hall behind them. "Can I get anything for you boys?" 

Ron dragged Harry out of the compartment by one arm and pulled him into the now empty seat of the Gryffindor compartment. "Draco will one day get what's coming to him – a punch so hard he'll never be able to stand the sight of himself in the mirror," Harry laughed a little as he said this, but couldn't help remembering Draco's comment. _Have you ever considered that you might poke someone's eye out with your sharp wit? I would be rather painful – like a spoon._

There was no denying Draco had a wit sharper than a living blade, and stunningly good looks, but he ranked himself with the Gods. If he weren't such a git, he might be – Harry cut himself off there. Since when had Draco become anything more than his worst enemy? 

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione looked worried about him the moment he had stepped in. 

"I'm fine, my bruise just hurts a bit." A favorable answer, he thought.

"Well, as long is it wasn't your scar…" _Hermione and her obsession with my scar. It's like she's trying to be my mother. At least she cares, unlike Vernon and Petunia._ He hated thinking about his muggle family, but it was difficult, having just spent an entire summer being tortured by Dudley and his friends. 

"No, not my scar, Hermione. I promise this time." Harry had a thing for telling no one when his scar hurt and he'd run into some trouble last year lying to everyone about it. He didn't like to recall last year. It had possibly been his worst at Hogwarts. Shaking his head, he turned to his friends and smiled, "So, how's it been in here without me?" 

"Boring," Dean and Seamus said in unison. Ron nodded in agreement, "Ever since Hermione told us to stop throwing Exploding Snap cards out the window, it hasn't been any fun."

"It was dangerous, Ron!" Hermione protested, "You could have hit an animal with those cards!" Ron, Dean and Seamus all rolled their eyes. "And poor Neville has lost Trevor again," Hermione said with a sigh, although the sides of her mouth seemed to twitch involuntarily. 

"Students, please put on your uniforms. We are approaching Hogwarts. The estimated time to arrival is 23 minutes."

"The ride gets shorter every year. Good, thing, because I'm starved!" commented Seamus, who always seemed to be hungry for a boy his size, although, Harry noticed, he had grown at least 5 inches over the summer. He still stood at about 5'8", which was nothing in comparison to Harry, who towered over all but Ron standing at 6 foot. 

The 23 minutes to Hogwarts seemed to take longer than the many hours of the trip, seeing as everyone had become hungry and restless. Harry straightened his tie and paid no mind to his hair, which, as always, flew off in every direction. 

Hermione noticed, looking around the compartment that everyone had changed. Poor Ron, who had, last year, looked completely out of proportion, now looked tall with broad shoulders and a lot more handsome than before. Harry, who had not looked so bad last year, looked quite a bit more refined. He was nearly as tall as Ron was. He was cut and his hair, although tousled, looked a lot better than it had any year since they met at the age of 11. She never, of course, would have told this to anyone. Even Neville, who had been a short and chubby fifth year, now looked…handsome, Hermione thought. Her cheeks flushed lightly and she smiled at everyone, and pinned a small Prefect badge onto her black robes.

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station and the passengers began to get off at an alarming rate, apparently all trying to get into the first carriage. She noticed, though, the apprehensive look of the first years that were closing in around the large form of Hagrid. She waved to him with a broad smile and ran to catch up with the boys.


	2. Start at the Beginning

****

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The carriage ride to the school was suprisingly smooth. Ron had fallen partially asleep on Dean's shoulder. Dean was enjoying a game of Ping-Pong with Ron's head and the side of the carriage. 

When they reached the castle, Dean kicked Ron in the shin, causing Ron to yell and instinctively kick back. Ron and Dean practically fell out of the carriage and Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ron and Hermione walked up to the castle together with Harry walking a bit behind them. They walked through the front doors and into the Great Hall without even noticing Harry's disappearance. _Shows what great friends they are_, he thought huffily,_ they don't even notice when I'm not around._

When they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Seamus was quite uncomfortable sandwiched between Hermione and Colin Creevey which was a notoriously bad spot to be sitting in. He was right between the annoying paparazzi and the perfect prefect. 

Far from view of the Gryffindor table, Harry was standing in the entrance corridor. _Harry, what are you thinking? You're hungry and there's no reason for you to be waiting around for Draco_. That had done it. He was calling Malfoy by his first name. _He probably injected me with something on the train…_

Just as he was turning around to return to his friends, a cold finger tapped his shoulder. "Potter, you looking for me again?" Harry looked as though he was about to respond, but had no chance. 

***

"I know I'm irresistible, but really, it's coming to seem as though you're stalking me," Draco smirk and purposefully rubbed Harry's shoulder with his own as he walked to join his fellow Slytherins. Draco thought to himself, almost wistfully, _What is this? Fancying the enemy. I didn't think even _I_ could stoop that low._ Draco smiled in spite of himself. 

Without Crabbe and Goyle flanking his sides, he hated to admit, but he was rather lonely. He shrugged mentally and walked to the Slytherin table.

***

Harry slipped into a seat next to Hermione without her even noticing. For the entire Sorting Ceremony and part of the feast, everyone had ignored him. Not that it was a bad thing. He hadn't even paid attention to Dumbledore's welcoming speech. Harry was _almost_ glad when someone finally noticed his strange behavior. "Something is bothering you, Harry Potter. I can see it in your eyes," said Hermione over a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Just a guy thing," he shrugged in response. "You'd be surprised how much I know about these 'guy things'." She was smiling broadly now – she loved helping, especially when she could give advice. "I'd rather not talk about it, Herm. It's kind of…complicated…"

Harry's mind was currently filled with something much more obnoxious than Hermione's constant nagging – Draco Malfoy, prat extraordinare. _It can't be right. I'm straight as a tack. Not a gay bone in me. Well, even if there is_, he considered,_ it's not reserved for Draco Malfoy._ The name rung in his head and remained there for a long time.

It was resolved that Harry Potter did not fancy the pale-skinned, light-haired, silver-eyed, tall, slender, boy who…Harry noticed some drool cascading down his chin and quickly wiped it off. _Oh god._

***

As Draco looked at Harry across the hall, he looked more than a bit ruffled. Glazed, perhaps. He had only just begun to notice Harry's emotions. Given, it wasn't hard, considering Harry practically wore his emotions on a bright neon sign above his head. Draco took in everyone one of Harry's features – his dark, untidy hair; his emerald green eyes, which always seemed to blaze with determination; his dorky eyewear, his lightly tanned skin. _Take that back. Potter's got himself some fancy new eyewear. Wonder how he managed that._

Blaise poked him almost affectionately on the shoulder, "Draco, dear, you're drooling on yourself," she said with an appraising look, and turned back to the other Slytherins. _I bet she wonders what I, Draco Malfoy, most in control student at Hogwarts, might looking like a mental patient for._ He smiled at no one in particular. 

***

"Students, I have one more announcement before you return to your dormitories." The hall was nearly silent, albeit a bit shift, waiting to go back to their commons. "There will be absolutely no dangerous stunts tolerated for St. Ottoman's Day. Other jokes will be dealt with however the faculty sees fit. Sleep well." He smiled, the usual twinkle in his eye.

***

On the way to the common room, Ron tapped Harry playfully in the arm and Harry nearly fell down the stairs. He'' been thinking about not only Draco, but his St. Ottoman's day stunt. 

"Oy! You OK? Nevermind. I was only going to ask about your Ottoman's Day stunt." It was common knowledge that Fred and George Weasley had always celebrated Ottoman's Day with certain flair. Them leaving Hogwarts, there was no exception. The tradition had been passed to Ron and Ginny. It was resting on their shoulders to come up with an amazing stunt. 

"Uhm…" Harry responded, almost thoughtfully, "I know I'm going to do something to D…Malfoy, I just don't know what it is yet." 

"Hopefully something painful." 

"Ron! Nothing dangerous! You heard Dumbledore." Seeing the blank look on Ron's face, she added, "Or maybe not. Honestly! You two!" she stalked off looking rather annoyed. 

"Being a prefect has already gotten to her."

***

Draco hadn't paid much attention to the swarm of new younger students who had already attached themselves to him. _I am good looking, after all. It's not wonder I'm so popular._

Draco stopped abruptly and his entourage collided unceremoniously, each girl tripping into another, until one of them fell forward onto Draco. _Dear lord, my punishment never ends_. The girl stood up straight and just started at him.

"Why, hello gals," he smiled a smile as kindly as he could muster. The girls were paying rapt attention and didn't dare to brush off their robes for they might lose sight of him. "Let me guess, I won a prize and now I have you charming, sophisticated, open-minded, free-spirited, young lemming fan club girls following me to my room." He smirked in triumph as their faces became slowly more sullen. One of the girls, a Hufflepuff, was still smiling. _She mustn't have gotten it. Really, my humor is just lost on some people._

The girls only gaped and, brushing their robes walked off to their respective houses. He walked off to the dungeons in success, but he had completely lost his train of thought. He supposed he was thinking of some super-sly Ottoman's day stunt, but he couldn't be completely sure, given his latest tendency to think of Harry at the slightest provocation. _This really sucks._

Even Draco had to admit that he'd lost a lot of his witty spark since the train ride back to school. Good thing he had no one to be insulting this moment. He would have to make a list of witty comments and use them over and over until he could think of something decent. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a instant-refill quill of green ink and began to write in illegible scrawl.

Have you ever considered you might pike your eye out with that sharp with of yours? It would hurt – like a spoon. 'Lemming fan club' Dear lord. I really have lost it… 

He pulled out another piece of parchment from his bag and began to write a note in his fanciful, and legible, handwriting.

Dear Harry,

It seems as though our encounters have left you quite shaken. Oh, the look on your face at tonight's feast was absolutely glorious. That aside, if you have a shred of moral decency, as you say, you'll meet me in the disused storage room on the 6th floor tonight at midnight.

D.

Why he had written the note, he wasn't sure, but he sent it with a first year who was willing to do his bidding. ('Take this to Gryffindor, kid. Harry Potter, to be exact. And don't open it, it's got an exploding charm.') It didn't actually, but it would burn itself after being a read. That was one of the nifty things he had learned with a library full of Dark Arts books around the corner from his room and Malfoy Mansion. Oh how he missed the sanity…

***

As Harry was nearly about to enter the commons through the portrait of the fat lady, a small, apparently first year, came running up to him and tapped him on the back.

"Note from Draco Malfoy addressed to Harry Potter. That must be you. You can't hide that nasty blemish." Harry's hand instinctively flew up to his scar and the tips of his ears flushed a bit. It appeared as though Draco was already teaching snide remarks to the new students.

"Uhm…thanks."

The young Slytherin sniggered and ran off towards the dungeons. Harry unroll the note and sat on the floor, which caused the Fat Lady great angst, for she had been hanging open for what seemed a long time, to a painting of course.

__

Dear Harry,

It seems as though our encounters have left you quite shaken. Oh, the look on your face at tonight's feast was absolutely glorious. That aside, if you have a shred of moral decency, as you say, you'll meet me in the disused storage room on the 6th floor tonight at midnight.

D.

The note broke into flame and the ashes fell to the ground around Harry feet. He walked dazedly into the common and flopped onto a couch in front of the fire. His watch read 8:16. There was plenty of time before he had to meet Draco.

__

He was walking in the corridors from History of Magic to Double Potions with the Slytherins when he noticed a shadow moving deftly between tapestries. He couldn't make out the figure until it stepped out in front of him.

"It seems as though you're_ stalking_ me_ now, Draco," there was no venom in Harry's voice nor was there tense air lingering between them._

"Well, yes, I was looking for you, Harry. The way you lumber around the halls, it wasn't difficult to spot you." Draco almost smiled and Harry's cheeks flushed with color. He had no idea he was so noisy.

Draco took a swift stride forward and closed the space between them. Harry didn't move back, and before he had a chance to, Draco closed any remaining space between them and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. He proceeded to lean in a press his lips lightly to Harry's. 

Draco's lips were, not surprisingly, very cold, but as soon as Harry had warmed up to the kiss, even returned it, Draco pulled back and smirked, "Happy St. Ottoman's Day, Potter," and with that, he walked off.

Harry sighed and looked at his watch. 11:43. _I'd better be off to see what Draco wants._

Harry walked off, his mind filled with possibilities of what might happen when he and Draco met in the disused closet.

__

End chapter 2


	3. The Disused Room

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Harry slipped into the boys' dormitory and grabbed his invisibility cloak. He left the portrait-hole as silently as possible. 

Harry shivered as he walked along the corridors to the sixth floor. _Why,_ he thought_, are there no elevators? _He grumbled to himself and continued walking, keeping a constant lookout for Peeves. '_Constant vigilance' _a voice in his head reminded him. Of all of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, Harry had missed Moody the most, even if he hadn't been the real thing.

When he reached the closet on the sixth floor, Draco was already there waiting for him, a smile forming on his lips. That was one thing about Draco he'd noticed even in his first year – the way he smiled with only his mouth, never the rest of his face. Either way, a smirk on Draco was like ice cream…Harry's cheeks flushed with coloring before draining themselves as soon as Draco spoke.

"So, you decided to come, Potter? I thought you might have been discouraged remembering 'our' midnight duel in the first year."

"I'd forgotten about that completely, but it's nice to know that you're not out to get me…quite as adamantly as before." Harry thought he would never forget dragging Ron and Hermione to the trophy room for the supposed midnight duel with Draco. "Well, now that you've gotten me up here, what do you want?"

A pause. "Well, I had a few things in mind." Draco pulled his hands out of his pockets and began ticking off fingers. "A blowjob. A friendly conversation. Getting you passed out and taking advantage of you." Harry had already become extremely hot and bothered and Draco smiled. "And you're the only one to believe me when I say that. Really, I'm not the slut everyone thinks I am. For instance, I would fuck Seamus, maybe Cedric if the chap were still alive, that is, but never your buddy Ron. You couldn't even pay me. The after taste wouldn't even be worth it," Draco announced, "and I don't mine you telling him so."

Harry shifted his stance, growing ever more uncomfortable in a confined space with his worst enemy, and, admittedly, the sexiest boy at Hogwarts. "Well, I'm leaving if all you're planning to do is ramble about guys." What he meant to say, though, was 'Take me now, Draco. I can't stand you talking about other men while I'm here for the taking.' But of course, this could be considered as heresy.

"Ah, yes, I suppose it's on to business. No funny stuff for you, eh, Potter?" Draco shook his head in mock dejection. "Well, if it means that much, we'll get down to business. The point of your meeting me here is on account of St. Ottoman's Day. I'm sure you are aware the holiday occurs in 6 days, and the point of the holiday is like that of the muggle holiday 'April fools'. You perform jokes on your friends and after they're completely stunned, you tell them it was a joke." He paused to see if Harry was catching the drift – after all, he could sometimes be extremely slow. "And for the occasion, I have a completely glorious joke planned and it involves your friend Weasley."

"Ron? What does this has to do with him? Nothing dangerous, right?"

"Ah, don't jump to conclusions. It doesn't _include_ him exactly…it's _on_ him."

Harry looked abashed. "A prank, on Ron?" He turned on his heel and began to leave the room when Draco grabbed him by the wrist. He glared straight into Harry's emerald eyes, and for a moment, it looked as though his resolve was weakened.

"At least her me out, Potter. It's a wonderful joke, and I think you'll be quite pleased with it. That is, judging by the looks you give me during Potions, meals, in the halls. Oh, I could go on…"

Harry took a deep breath. "Alright, what is it?"

"Glad to see you have some sense. That seems to come by the grain in Gryffindor. The plan is rather simple really. We, beginning the day before St. Ottoman's, make eyes at each other." He looked at Harry. "You with me still?" Harry nodded grimly. "And on the day of St. Ottoman's, you ask me if I'd like to go out with you on Saturday. I, of course, will say yes. During dinner, I'll approach the Gryffindor table. Weasley and Granger should be flanking you by the time I get there. Following?" 

"Yea, although I'm not seeing much of a joke in this…"

"Only you wouldn't, Potter. Here comes the part where you may have problem, but…maybe not."

Harry gave him a questioning look and shook his wrist, where Draco's hand was still wrapped.

"You're going to smile and tell me that you can't wait until Saturday. At that point, I'll leave the table, and Ron will be left abashed. You'll tell him it was only a joke when you get back to your tower – absolutely no sooner. Think you can handle it?"

Harry shook his head dismally for a moment thinking the plan over. "Good plan, er…Draco, but why would I want to give Ron a heart attack?"

"There has to be a reason? If you must have one, then just think that you'll get to spend some quality time with me, the real Hogwarts' posterboy." Draco simpered.

A racket in the hall outside broke a tense silence. "Shit. It must be Filch," Harry muttered. He grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him across the room into what looked like an over-sized wardrobe. 

Once inside, the boys listened for more noises. It sounded like there was still someone walking about rather noisily. 

Draco smiled and leaned over towards Harry who was turned towards him, their faces only more inches apart. He rubbed Harry's "Ah, what a compromising position we're in now," he whispered and ran his fingers along Harry's side. If it hadn't been so dark, Harry would have noticed a sensual smile on Draco's face.

***

A shiver ran up Harry's spine and before he knew what he was doing, he thrust himself, almost violently, forward, into Draco and pressed his lips to the blonde's. It took Draco a moment to respond, but quickly he deepened this kiss, piercing Harry's mouth with his warm tongue. 

Draco tasted of blood, like copper and Harry shuddered. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him as close as possible. He couldn't grasp, that he, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was kissing Draco Malfoy, most hated enemy.

***

"Something wrong, Potter?" Draco looked nearly distressed.

"What? No," Harry was utterly confused. '_But didn't? Didn't we just kiss? What the hell?'_

"I think you fell asleep." In truth, Harry had just been 'night' dreaming. 

Draco hesitated. "We can get out of here now." Draco took a dainty step forward as opposed to Harry who nearly fell out. '_Falling asleep on the job. And after I'd caressed him so…You twat. And I would have kissed him.'_

When Draco looked up again, Harry had already left the room. He hadn't said good-bye, nor had he agreed to the joke on Ron.


	4. At an Agreement

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Harry had been seriously considering Draco's offer for two days now. On one hand, Draco was right, they'd get to spend some quality time together. But, it wouldn't be real romance, in any case.

On the other – Ron would never forgive him. Now only would he be pranking Ron, but with Malfoy.

'It shouldn't be this hard to decide' thought Harry. 'Anyway, for all I know, the joke's on me.' He paced to the Great Hall. A few first years nearly collided with him as they chatted excitedly. 

Upon entering the hall, Harry noticed Draco wasn't yet there. 'And here I am, about to agree. Jeez.' As if on cue, Draco strode into the hall, possessing his usual aura. He'd always had that.

Before thinking, he sped towards the entrance. He caught Draco by surprise and shoved him into the corridor.

"Potter! Have you no manners?" He brushed the arms of his robes.

"I'll just…I'll do it," Harry half yelled. Draco looked genuinely surprised. Harry wished he could capture this moment on unmoving muggle film.

"Glad you've decided the right way. I assume you remember the plan? It has only been two days, but the Gryffindors seem all brawn and no brain."

Harry bit his tongue, nodded curtly, and walked back in to the Great Hall.

***

Draco had been expecting that Harry would never do this. And after all the thought he'd put into a trick on Harry. After all, the trick had been completely based on Harry's refusal. Well, he could always revise it to fit the situation. He strode back into the hall and sat down at the Slytherin table.

***

Harry eyes the Slytherin table for a good ten minutes. He wasn't sure what to make of Draco's face. He looked contemplative and devious. 'I knew it was a bad idea. It _is_ a joke on me. I couldn't have been stupider if I'd tried…'

"Harry, you've been off in space since the beginning of school! What's wrong with you?" Hermione mused.

"Well, it's nothing, really. I just…guy problems."

"I always wanted to be the one that informed you that you were gay, Harry, but I guess you've jumped the gun. Good job," she smiled, patted him on the back and turned to her Arithmancy homework. It seemed like she was spending a lot more time on work than food or sleep. And how long had Hermione assumed that Harry was gay? He stabbed his pork with a knife.

Harry turned to Ron who was mumbling something incoherent. Harry thought he heard the words Snape, crack, and skull.

"Ron, something wrong?" Harry inquired.

"Well, I'm glad somebody finally noticed. I've been skulking around for two days now and even Hermione didn't say a word. And you've been in Lala Land. Every time I talk to you, it's like it passes right through you." Ron looked angry. His ears and cheeks flushed pink.

"Err…I'm sorry, I've just been really, er, preoccupied." 

"I suppose the only one that matters is you and some girl, huh? You look like Cupid shot you with more than one arrow. But don't think you're the only one having girl problems, Harry, because we've all got plenty of our own."

Harry hated it when Ron got moody. It didn't seem to happen all to often, but when it did, it was generally Harry's fault in the first place. And he always made it worse by saying the exact wrong thing.

"If it makes you feel any better, it's not girl problems, Ron. And I'm here to listen to you now, if you want." 

"I don't want to," he hesitated, "But I will because I have to get it off my chest." He shoved a piece of pork into his mouth and continued, "It's Hermione. Every keeps telling me we'd be great together. Ron and Hermione, sitting in a tree blah blah blah. Well, there's been no proof to back it up. She never hints at anything, and for that matter, she hardly acknowledges me!" he was burning crimson now, with emotion.

"Have you tried to get her attention through something other than angst?" Harry knew incessant whining wouldn't stop. Also, he'd much rather have Ron mad at him than crying on his shoulder.

"Well…no." Ron looked stupefied.

"It might be a good idea to try a new approach. Do something subtle. Like," he thought for a moment, "Ask for her help. She loves that. After she's helped you, offer her a huge thank you. She'll definitely appreciate you if you appreciate her. Eventually, you should try something more forward, like a flower. Now, Hermione isn't daft, and she probably knows you like her, but subtlety is the way to go with a girl." 

Ron calculated all of the advice. "Uhm. Thank, Harry…" He made peace with his dinner and looked a good bit happier for the rest of the evening.

Harry drank some pumpkin juice and hoped the best for his friend.

***

As soon as dinner was over, Draco had practically sprinted to his dorm to write a note. He was totally unsure of what to write, but he knew he had to send an owl to Harry. 

'Harry, You're driving me crazy. I can't decide if I hate you any more.' He crumpled that piece and drew another from his desk. 

'Harry, Once again, I am glad you have accepted the plan. I look forward to making Weasley's life miserable. Meet me in the closet again tonight at 11. We have a few more things to discuss.'

Draco looked the note over and wasn't sure what he was going to do when Harry and he met in the closet. He wanted to ask Harry how he felt about the whole thing, but that was too Romance novel-ish. After all, this wasn't meant to be a love story – it was meant as a joke. There should be no feeling involved.

He would have to simply tell Harry off for thinking anything more of Draco than an enemy. Of course, Harry would blush and deny everything, but Draco had seen the way Harry constantly looked at him. And luckily, Harry was a bit thick and hadn't noticed Draco looking back.

Draco walked to the owlery and sent his owl off with the note for Harry.

***

'Harry, Once again, I am glad you have accepted the plan. I look forward to making Weasley's life miserable. Meet me in the closet again tonight at 11. We have a few more things to discuss.' Harry had read the note from Draco many times over. He had no idea why Draco needed to see him again. He was probably going to make some bad jokes and get Harry as uncomfortable as possible.

In any case, he was going to go. He had always been better than Draco at dueling and they were equals in physical fighting, so he could defend himself if anything went a-wall. He hoped nothing bad would happen, because, above all else, he wanted to know what Draco was up to. Everyone thought he was just a famous jock, but he wasn't a blonde, famous, jock. He noticed Draco looking at him during every meal with that unreadable expression on his face. 

He sat down at a table to work on his Potions essay to clear his mind. He had an hour to go until his meeting in the closet.


	5. Iaceo Venenum

As Harry walked up the stairs, a sick feeling stirred in his stomach. It wasn't butterflies like when you meet someone new or ride a roller coaster, but more of a 'I think I'm going to throw up now' type of feeling. But there shouldn't be anything to worry about. Not like Draco was going to jump him or anything. _Well,_ he reasoned, _he _probably_ won't jump me…_

He reached the tower only minutes before midnight. Draco wasn't in sight, but it wasn't unlike him to hide in the shadows. Harry shifted his weight between legs, waiting uncomfortably in the darkness. Four minutes later, Draco was still nowhere in sight. _Either he's not coming, or he's still primping._

As on cue to prove Harry wrong yet again, Draco appeared in the doorway, but Harry hadn't been completely wrong. Draco looked stunning wearing green robes with a black shirt under them, with the perfect amount of skin showing on his neck. He looked absolutely divine bathed in the pale moonlight and darkness.

"Ah. I see you waited. I wasn't sure you'd come, "I sent that invitation to you on a whim, thinking I had something to say, but I guess I was wrong. You are dismissed." There had been so much Draco had wanted to say, but this wasn't the time – or the place. He had imagined it less… in the dark, perhaps. 

"You mean to say you just needed to write a letter so you can keep me up at odd hours of the night and make me wait around while you wander around the school and make a show all dressed up for absolutely nothing?" Harry was easily annoyed, but this took the cake. He'd been so nervous about nothing. But then again, what had he expected? There was no way Draco would profess his love for Harry, unless…No. That was an entire other story.

"Sorry, Potter. I guess you'll have to get used to it. But of course, it's not like you wouldn't have been out anyway looking for trouble."

Harry's cheeks tinged pink and he shook his head, walking out of the room, trying to finesse shoving Draco into a wall hanging as he left.

***

__

Shows what a bright bulb Potter really is, coming to a closet in the middle of the night. For all he knew, I was coming with a whip and handcuffs. Draco actually sniggered a little at the thought of taking Harry Potter as he walked back to the dungeons. He touched his shoulder gingerly as he walked. There was a cut that was bleeding a little, but nothing he had to worry about. He'd have to remind Potter to be a little more careful next time he left a room.

***

Going in the opposite direction was Harry, wishing as hard as he could that during their next meeting, he could tell Draco what he felt. Wait. What was it that he felt? And since when had he felt that way? He still couldn't quite comprehend the quick change from hating his most cursed Hogwarts enemy to wanting to see him again. He cursed his feelings the rest of the way back to Gryffindor tower.

***

There were only a 2 more days to St. Ottoman's and Harry felt like he was always sweating. And actually, he was. Profusely at times. _Just when you think puberty has finished its course, you realize, 2 years later, that you're totally wrong._ He yawned and sat down in Potions, next to Ron and Hermione in the back. 

"Hello class! My name is Professor Murielis. I'll be teaching Potions to you for 2 days while Professor Snape takes a much-needed vacation," she called out cheerfully, and she added in a hushed tone, "And we're going to be learning something you don't learn in your regular classes."

Many people, especially Lavender and Parvati began to chatter amongst themselves about the substitute, "I bet she'll teach us how to make love potions!" "No way! Those are illegal!"

"No, students, I'll be teaching you how to make a simple but effective truth potion. Not the advanced potion, as you may think. This one is actually the Iaceo Venenum potion, commonly referred to as the 'Lie Detector Test'. While it doesn't work for more than 2 minutes per 'application', it does prove very useful for finding out a few facts."

The cogs in Harry's head were turning – very quickly. This potion could be used to extrapolate information from Draco! But what exactly did he want to know? _Boxers or briefs?_ Harry giggled to himself, but he could feel the answer, and see it quite vividly. Briefs. 

"It isn't a complicated potion, but it will require your full attention even after it is complete, for it is a completely clear substance and you might lose sight of it." She winked, and some of the students looked at Neville, laughing under their breath.

She took plenty of time explaining the process and ingredients and told the students they could work in groups no larger than 4. It was the luckiest they could have gotten. Neville walked shyly to the table in the back. "Can I work with you guys?" He rubbed his heel into the stone floor and looked embarrassed. Everyone knew he needed Hermione's help.

Hermione instructing, Neville trying his best not to break anything, and Harry and Ron tossing paper at the Slytherins, they finished their potion well before class was over. Hermione's hand shot up. "Professor, may we test it?" "Ah, wonderful, you're finished. Let me check it first." Professor Murielis walked briskly to the back table and smiled at the team's concoction. "This is brilliant work…" "Hermione." "Ah, Hermione. And it appears no thanks to the others." She smiled broadly and looked at Harry and Ron who had just launched another few paper balls straight at Malfoy's head. "Yes, Hermione, you may test it. It will only take one tablespoon to work. If it is truly proper, the 'victim' persay will taste nothing. Just don't ask anything too personal." Hermione nodded and turned to the rest of her team. "Alright, who wants to try it?" 

Harry, having not listened to any of the conversation turned around in response just in case Hermione might yell at him. "Great, Harry! Come here." He groaned and walked over to hear. She measured out one tablespoon from their cauldron and handed it to Harry. "OK, Harry, if it's proper then you won't taste anything, but if you do taste something…just spit it out." She looked a little unsure but smiled all the same. 

He shoved the spoonful into his mouth and swallowed quickly. "It doesn't taste like anything Hermione." 

"Good. Now, we have two minutes. So, what's your name?" 

"Harry James Potter."

"When's your birthday?"

"July 31."

"What's the weather like?"

"I'm not sure, there aren't any windows in the dungeon."

"Who does Ron have a crush on?"

"Parvati."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty much."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Malfoy."

Hermione gave him an odd look. "What did you just say?"

"Malfoy."

"That's what I thought. You worried about the Quidditch match? It's not for another week!"

"I'm not worried about Quidditch. I'm worried about…" It seemed he was aware of what he was saying and stopped. 

"Harry! What are you worried about?"

He just smiled, "Two minutes are up, Mione." He sat down next to Ron. He leaned over and whispered, "Have you tried asking Hermione for help?" 

"Actually, Harry, looks like Neville beat me to it again. I'll have to ask her for some help with Muggle Studies homework." 

"But, uh, Ron, won't she wonder? I mean, your dad and all." 

"Good point. Arithmancy, then?" 

"You don't take it." 

"Divination?" 

"She quit." 

"I'll just ask her about Herbology, then!" Ron looked a little peeved. It seemed Harry was trying to make this whole thing hard. He should just ask Hermione out and get it over with. Being blunt had always been a Weasley virtue. 

Five minutes before the end of class, Harry reached into his pocket and found the necklace Lavender had given him as a belated birthday gift. It was a small glass vial on a silver chain. It probably had some meaning that only the girls could understand, so he hadn't worn it yet. 

He'd forgotten to take it out of his trousers, luckily. He thought about it and as everyone left the classroom, he went to the cabinet where the potions were stored and pulled out his team's bottle. He poured about a tablespoon into the vial, corked it and walked out with only one thought. He realized he hadn't looked at Draco since he walked in the room. What if he'd devised the same plan? It seemed they would both be in for a bit of a surprise, but Harry was prepared to deliberate against the potion's effects for 2 minutes if Draco tried anything. After all, he had been taught to defend against the Unforgivable Curses.

***

As it turned out, Draco had been a bit too preoccupied to even consider using the potion to his advantage. In fact, he'd been stealing glances at Harry nearly the whole period. _Thank god he's so dim. Not a Gryffindor virtue, but it really works to one's advantage._ He smirked and walked to Herbology.


	6. Midnight Quidditch

__

Draco raced through the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him. Adrenaline coursed through every one of his veins and his breath was hardly coming at all. He could feel nothing. His entire body was numb and all he knew was running and pure energy coming from him.

Behind him, there was a shadow. A shadow that loomed so large it was as if the Great Wall of China had cornered him. The shadow seemed to dance across the corridor. Draco wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a glint of malice in the shadow's dark visage.

He was trapped, and now his breath was coming. He lungs were hardly capacitated to hold as much air as was trying to flow to and from them now. His head felt light and his arms tremored. 

As the shadow inched nearer, he saw was a gleam of emerald green. He was sweating like he'd run a marathon. Emerald green filled his mind and he felt dizzy again. Raven black surrounded by startling blood red and emerald green. He wanted to do something – anything, but all the escaped him was one tear. Not a tear of fear, but one, rather, of…obsession. An obsession gone too far.

It rolled down his cheek, staining a salty streak down his cheek, and dripped into his mouth. He could nearly taste the fear it elicited from him. A shudder found it's way though his entire body. 

That's when he woke up.

***

"What the hell…" was the only thing he uttered. He felt his face. It was piercingly hot and he could feel the perspiration dripping from his pores. And he could still taste the tear in his mouth. Saltine mixed with something else. Copper. Touching a finger to his lip, he pulled it back and was covered in crimson blood.

In his struggle to get away from the shadow, he'd bitten himself. He wiped his face with his bare arm and palms.

Draco straightened himself in his bed so he could concentrate. And his mind focused onto the shadow. Emerald green, bright red, and raven black. The sure marks of one boy – the Boy Who Lived [to Torment Draco]. Harry Potter.

As Draco lay in bed, he realized he'd broken the Malfoy cardinal rule; he'd let someone get the better of him. Well, he'd also finally admitted to himself that he was a flaming pouf.

Sure, there had been plenty of gay Malfoys, but they usually resided in the state of Denial until they went crazy and/or killed themselves.

Draco wasn't planning to do either. In fact, he was going to nail the most shaggable boy in Hogwarts. Not that it would be hard. He possessed the trademark Malfoy wit, charm and good looks.

Even if his father was a heartless bastard, he was powerful, cunning and had sex appeal to spare. Reading his private things, Draco had learned of his father's frolics with not only James Potter (who later married Lily Evans), but Remus Lupin (Draco, for one, had always thought he was a bit of a prude), _and_ Sirius Black, the most popular boy in school at the time.

There was no question that Draco could have anyone he wanted, even those 7th year Ravenclaws that were oh-so-delicious looking.

Aside from all of this, he'd still let someone, and not just anyone, get the upper hand on him. The Boy-who-was-a-constant-nuisance-to-Voldermort had been occupying most of Draco's mind since the term had started. After an entire month of fighting himself, he'd even given up hope of controlling his thoughts of the raven-haired boy, who, at this very moment, was thinking similar thoughts.

***

It was 2am and Harry was lying awake in the protection of the four poster's curtains. He'd just woken from a dream that he vaguely remember being about chocolate, dancing the tango, and a huge sum of bagels. But amongst all this there was a person. He could hardly admit to himself who it was, though.

Even after tons of extra Quidditch practice, sleep and even a little yoga, Harry's mind still wasn't devoid of thoughts of Draco Malfoy. In fact, the most shaggable boy in Hogwarts was consuming a lot of space in Harry's head.

He'd continually tried to assure himself that he was just nervous about St. Ottoman's Day, but he always knew it wasn't true.

Harry twiddled his thumbs for a second before jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of jeans. He grabbed his Firebolt and headed out of the dormitory as quietly as possible.

***

After much deliberation, Draco had decided some exercise would do him good. 

He slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to make any noise. He pulled on the first jeans and shirt he found. _Funny, this shirt is two years old and it fits better than it used to._ Indeed it did. It hugged his lean form perfectly. It also went well with the jeans he had on. _Those_ jeans.

Draco smiled at his reflection, grabbed his Nimbus 2000 and strutted out of the dorm.

***

Harry walked slowly across the lush Hogwart's lawns, trying to think as little as possible. But one thing kept coming back to mind. The Iaceo Venenum. 

As it had turned out, he really couldn't do anything with the potion. The only option, it seemed was to walk up to Draco and shove it in his mouth. But since he had been so careful in procuring it from the classroom, he wasn't going to waste it. He'd save it in the vial around his neck. 

He reached the pitch rather quickly and he mounted his broom before he met any further distractions. He performed a few dives and flew a lap. After a few minutes of this, he just sat on his broom and thought about everything for a few minutes. Draco, Voldermort, N.E.W.Ts, hunger (he hadn't eaten much dinner), Draco, how cold it was outside for an October night, how badly his arse hurt, Draco. It was no use. No matter what he thought of, it all came back to Malfoy.

Harry'd flown about four more laps around the pitch when he heard a noise coming from near one of the locker rooms. What sounded like a train wreck was merely a snapping stick, but it was enough to snap Harry from his flying – and his thinking (of himself and a certain Slytherin in some _very_ compromising situations).

He sped towards where the sound had come from and found himself face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy, in the flesh.


	7. Tainted Love

Harry had an overwhelming urge to lunge forward and kiss Draco then and there, but he settled for mounting his broom and flying back to the pitch without a word.

"Potter, you're leaving without a kiss good-bye?" Draco had hardly whispered, but Harry had heard it loud and clear, the smooth voice ringing in his ears.

Harry said nothing, concentrating as hard as he could on very unattractive thoughts; McGonagall in a swimsuit, Dudley naked, Neville. And when none of _these_ worked – the big guns. Snape in drag. 

That did it. He continued to fly until he heard another utterance magnified by what seemed about a thousand times.

"Harry, I don't cope well with the silent treatment." 

Harry could have sworn Malfoy had purred. He screwed his eyes shut, letting instinct fly him around the pitch. _Drag. Snape in drag. Snape at a bar in drag._ As he was about to imagine Snape taking _off_ the drag, Malfoy sped up straight in front of him. A light thud resounded as their brooms tapped.

"Look, Malfoy, I came here to stop thinking. There's no need for you to force me into it again. Harry flew off the pitch andmarchedback to Gryffindor tower.

***

When Draco had reached the pitch, there was already someone racing through the bitter air. Draco's stomach did a flip. 

__

What if it's Harry?

What about it, then?

Well, it's Harry!

The Boy-Who-Never-Ceased-to-Have-Impeccable-Timing had flown down nearly immediately after Draco stepped on a twig. _Talk about Seeker reflexes. They don't only apply to sight._ Draco noticed a change flick across Harry's face. He even appeared to sway a bit. Without a word, Harry mounted his broom and took off.

After some deliberation, Draco called, "Potter, you're leaving without a good-bye kiss?" Although quiet, Draco was positive Harry had heard him. The small choke and start from the other was fairly indicative. However,Harry said not another wordto indicate he had even heard.

Draco hated when he couldn't get a rise out of Harry. He lived for the fights in the halls, the quick glares, and the insults – for the emotion burning in Harry's eyes when he struck a sensitive spot.It excited him. It was even vaguely erotic. He'd often imagined a fight turned something more. Bickering and fighting often led to much kinkier things in Draco's imagination; Biting and bondage being amongst them. Plus, without any word of Voldermort, it was the only action either of them got. _Sexual or otherwise,_ Draco thought bitterly.

"Harry, I don't cope well with the silent treatment." Draco figured the blatant and enunciated use of his archrival's name might do something. No luck there.

He was sick of standing around. He'd never gotten what he wanted by having a staring contest with his father. He was going to give Harry a knut for his thoughts.He flew up quickly, with a whoosh of robes billowing behind him.He even gave Harry a knock on the broom when he arrived. But idle chitchat wasn't Harry's purpose for being out of bed so early, apparently.

"Look, Malfoy, I came here to stop thinking. There's no need for you to force me into it again." 

"Start what over?" was on the top of Draco's tongue when Harry sped off the pitch and back to the castle.

Draco had a hunch about Harry's words that he _sincerely_ hoped were what he'd actually meant.

***

After his trip back to the dormitories, Harry lay in bed, and all he could do was retrace his trip to the pitch. He hadn't wanted to blow Draco off like that, but he knew that if he hadn't, there would have been consequences. Risqué and carnal consequences, but there would also be repercussions. And he couldn't risk his life turning upside down just to accommodate his desire for the Slytherin. _And he even looked a bit…pained…when he flew up to me. Well, no more than usual as of late, I guess._ That was a disturbing revelation.

Since Harry had known him, Malfoy had been in control of everything; People, money, and especially his own emotions. But lately it seemed they were showing on his face more clearly. Nothing compared to Ron (or himself), admittedly, but the emotions were there. It was usually just a flicker, like a fire being lit and then put out, but it was present, nonetheless.

As it had turned out, Harry really couldn't do anything with the potion; not now at least. The only option, it seemed was to walk up to Draco and shove it down his throat. But since he had been so careful in procuring it from the classroom, he wasn't going to waste it. He'd save it in the vial around his neck for now. It could always come in handy a little later.

Clutching the vial in his hand, Harry fell into a restless sleep.

***

He was standing in a dark corner, alone. Elsewhere in the house, there were tons of people getting high, dancing, and getting hammered. Instead, he stood in the corner with his cup and swayed drunkenly to the music. It pounded in his ears. He thought they might explode. It was something muggle. He'd heard the Dursleys talking about this guy once. A 'Devil worshipper' they had called him, but now, Harry was enjoying the music coursing through his blood like drugs. The bass beat was addictive to fault. 

'Once I ran to you, now I run from you,' swished around in his head. He couldn't help having a feeling of annoyance as he couldn't remember why this song meant something to him. 'Sometimes I feel like I've got to run away. Got to get away.' _What the hell is it!?_ He was startled when he heard his own voice above the music, and even more so when he felt a cold finger tape his shoulder. 

He didn't have to question who it was. Only one person's touch could be so cold when it was scaldingly hot in the room.

A clammy palm found its way partly down his chest. Malfoy nibbled on his earlobe, eliciting a moan from Harry. Harry hated Malfoy for the way he excited him. Even his presence was intoxicating. He could become more drunk on Malfoy's scent alone than on 10 butterbeers.

Harry reached an arm behind him and cupped Malfoy's arse. He pulled him closer and leaned back. Turning his head slightly, he kissed and bit his way down Malfoy's neck, sometimes leaving marks he wouldn't remember having given.

Malfoy turned Harry around and pulled him onto a large chair. He proceeded to grind his hips in a rhytmic motion. Often, either he or Harry would groan or grumble in pleasure, but no words were exchanged. Harry moaned throatily, but his dirty deeds in the chair were hardly remembered. 

***

He always woke up before he came. Well, he never came in his dreams. In reality, that wasa different story. He would always wake up in a sticky bed with only a few recollections of the dreams. They were coming nearly every night now. Sometimes in a different setting, but always pleasurable in a perverse way.

But that was all it ever was. It was shameless dreams at night and feigned hatred in the daylight hours Sometimes, though, Harry wasn't sure if he was faking the hatred any more. Malfoy had never given him any reason reason not to hate him, but…that was only his dreams. In reality, Malfoy had given him tons of reasons to hate him, but Harry never did. He surely _disliked_ Malfoy for all the things he'd said and done over the years, but he could never hate him. Especially not now. 

Not since Harry was falling for him. Falling hard and falling fast. 

And tomorrow was St. Ottoman's day.


	8. Potions are Fun

****

Author's note: This chapter is a lot happier than the past ones, (and a lot longer! It was so much fun to write!) because this is what it's all about in the first place! I didn't set out to make it depressing or dramatic. So, here it is, with a little bit better style (hopefully) and a lot more quirky humor.

Oh…sorry about the HTML coding before! It's needed on riddikulus.org where I've been posting it if you want italics or bold script or anything. Sorry again! I believe I've ridded this chapter of all coding.

___________________________________________________________

Harry woke up feeling scared on the morning of St. Ottoman's. Or maybe apprehensive was the word. Yes. He had to be careful with his words. It wouldn't do to make mistakes. After all, the Boy Who Lived had to also be the Boy of Superior Intelligence. And unlike Ron, he knew that distraught was _not_ the same as distracted.

He sat in his bed for a few moments, listening to the rustling of sheets and snoring coming from his fellows. This was his 6th year knowing them, and he smiled appreciatively. He really couldn't have been luckier that day. His friends weren't yet awake to hear him getting ready for a very important day, and this very important day was on account of one very important Slytherin.

As Harry reached the Great Hall that morning, he remembered why he was so apprehensive. To add to it, he was now very self-conscious. Despite his best efforts, his hair stuck out in all directions and he had put on a horribly uncoordinated outfit under his school robes. Green and orange-red never got along very well. He'd spent a ridiculous amount of time getting ready and mentally preparing himself for lunch later that afternoon, but his day had hardly begun and he was a nervous wreck.

Draco was not yet at the Slytherin table. Most Slytherins preferred to eat in their common room, anyway.

The only other Gryffindors at the table at this hour were Ginny and Dennis. Most Gryffindors preferred beauty sleep or just sleep over getting up early when breakfast was served until 8o'clock. God forbid, quite a few of them needed beauty sleep.

He hurriedly ate an orange biscotti, pumpkin juice, and a pastry. He had to grab his bookpack before double potions. There wasn't any sense in getting the house points reduced after Seamus' incident at the beginning of the term.

***

Draco most definitely preferred eating in the Great Hall early in the morning rather than the dank Slytherin dungeons. His fellow Slytherins, while being superior to Gryffindorks, were still inferior to him. But he didn't want to have to deal with Harry Potter that early in the morning. Not only that, but 2 solitary strands of hair absolutely _refused _to stay down. It wouldn't be proper to go out in public like _this._

He stood impatiently in front of the mirror and combed back his hair for the umpteenth time. After (precisely) 9 times re-gelling and combing his hair, he let out an impatient grunt, slapped the comb on the sink and ruffled his hair. At least now it looked like he hadn't been trying.

He took a deep breath, checked his face in the mirror one last time, and set off for the Great Hall.

When he arrived, there were very few students left in the hall. A few Ravenclaws were discussing an upcoming test in History of Magic. Draco noticed one face amongst the crowd – Aidan Finnigan. Draco had assumed he was that Gryffindor's brother, but was much more intriguing. Where the other Finnigan had a smile and charm, this one seemed more refined. Not that it really mattered, anyway. The boy was two years younger than he was.

Draco grabbed a biscuit from the Slytherin table and stalked off once again to the dungeons. He carefully placed his elbows in the way of every oncoming person. He was, after all, a 6th year and mere 3rd years had better not dare cross his path early in the morning. Or any other time of day, for that matter.

***

When Harry reached Gryffindor Tower, there were still a few students lounging in the comfortable chairs. _They mustn't have any classes this morning. Lucky buggers._ He ran up the stairs to the 6th year boys' dormitory and grabbed his pack from his four-poster. He set off to the dungeons. It was going to be a _long_ morning.

***

Draco entered the commons quietly and slipped into his room. He grabbed his black bag from his bed and walked back out. Lucky for him, the Potions room was just across the hall from Slytherin quarters. He ducked into the room and set himself at the front. It was a good thing he established his seat far from Potter from the beginning. Now he wouldn't have to look at him. On the other hand, he couldn't look at him. _Haha. Very funny. I don't have to look at him, but I can't look at him. Is it ironic? I think not._

He set his books, quills and ink upon the desk and leaned back in his chair. Even with his hair "ruined," he looked like a beautiful young man. He was definitely Lucius' son. All eyes were on him. _It's got to be the hair. Father always said I needed to be more patience; it is a virtue after all._

***

Harry entered the dungeons and gave Snape a resentful glare as he passed the desk. It's not as if the old codger would notice. He walked to the back of the room where Hermione and Ron were already sitting, looking extremely uncomfortable. He tried his best not to look in Malfoy's direction, but it was entirely impossible. He sighed and sat himself down in between them. There were still 5 minutes before class began.

He leaned over to Ron. "What's the matter, Ron? Girls got you down?"

"Yes, in fact, Harry. I swear. You can't like two girls at the same time can you!?" he whispered nearly frantically. 

"Well, not if you're dating one of them, but as I don't think you are…"he gave Ron a suspicious look, "It shouldn't be a problem."

"But it is, Harry! Seamus the bloody git, he is! Always meddling in others' affairs. He told Hermione I fancy her, and if that weren't enough, I was talking to Parvati at the time, asking her to come with me on the next Hogsmeade trip! I've ruined my chances with both of them."

"I must say, that makes no sense, Ron. You're practically in love with Hermione yet you ask _Parvati_ to Hogsmeade with you?"

"You just don't understand. I couldn't ask Hermione! She's so complicated! Parvati and Lavender on the other hand are just normal girls. You get what you ask for with them. As much as I'd like Hermione, it's not possible."

Harry sighed. Sometimes his friends were impossible.

He smiled a little and turned to Hermione.

"What's bothering you, Mione? You look upset. There isn't a test, is there?"

Hermione smiled a little. "You'd know if there were a test; I would have reminded you of course. It's Ron. I know I shouldn't talk to you about it…I really should talk to him, but you know how dense he is sometimes!"

Harry nearly laughed. "Yes, I know. Go on."

"Alright. Well, Seamus comes prancing up to me while I was sitting in the Common Room and announces that Ron fancies me. How embarrassing!"

"I don't get what's so bad about it?" Harry never really understood how Hermione and Ron's minds worked about their "relationship" as friends or as potential lovers.

"Harry! Don't you get it? I fancy Ron! And he was even asking Parvati to Hogsmeade! It was so embarrassing, Harry."

"Hermione, why didn't you just ask him to Hogsmeade yourself? It's not the Dark Ages any longer."

"I…uh…good point there."

At that, Harry smiled hugely. "Ron, Hermione," he announced, "You fancy each other and will attend Hogsmeade this weekend in each other's presence. That's final." He laughed, stood up and moved over next to Hermione, so she could sit by Ron. He hardly heard the appalling noises coming from them, or the sniggering from everyone else in the class. Even Snape was chortling, if he'd cared to listen. 

***

Potions passed in a blur of blonde hair, giggling, firefly wings and pink. They were making something called 'Giddiness Serum'. Snape had been asked to make it; a special request from Dumbledore. Instead of making it himself, he figured at least one student would have made it correctly. 

Harry had toughed his way through the lesson, and by the end, his potion was a lighter pink than Hermione and Ron's, but it was pink nonetheless. For Harry, Potions extraordinairre he was, any potion not turning sickly green was quite good.

It wasn't until he'd cleaned up his mess that he realized today was early lunch day. It was almost time. His life was about to be ruined, he was sure of it.

***

Besides the Weasley-Granger "hook-up" class had been torture. Draco had an aptitude for potion making and he'd always enjoyed it. This class, though, was pure torture. Unlike Harry, he knew his next period was lunch, and he was going to be embarrassed out of his mind. He hadn't until recently thought about how he was going to get out of this mess. The Slytherins would either never forgive Potter for asking him on a date, or never forgive him for accepting. Probably both, though.

When class had ended and all materials were stored, Draco was sure he was going to retch. He wasn't even the one doing the asking. 

***

By the time Harry made it to Gryffindor Tower and back to the Great Hall, he'd changed. Not that it made any difference. You could only see the green under his robes, anyway. He'd felt he had to make the effort, though, and he was already in the Tower putting his books away. He grabbed his History of Magic books, shoved them in his bag and set off for lunch.

This was going to be the best or worst day of his entire life. He really wasn't sure which.


	9. They Always End Happily Ever After

Draco's stomach lurched horribly as he sat down at the Slytherin table. He drank a sip of water, but it was all he could stomach. He'd been thinking about the whole situation since he'd propositioned it. At the time, he'd thought Harry was the usual masculine-type pretty boy. He was, of course. right on that account. But Harry was also determined in the way only a boy destined for something great could have been. 

These days, Draco sometimes wondered if Harry should have been sorted into Slytherin. They would have been friends. Draco's father would have used Harry for his own devices. Harry would have been in Voldermort's clutches before he could say 'Expecto patronum.' 

Luckily for him, Harry wouldn't have to worry about Voldermort until _next_ term. 

"Draco, dear, is something wrong?"

"No, Blaise, nothing's wrong." Draco took a bite out of a pork chop to prove his point.

Draco's heart tugged at his chest and he looked up to find none other than Harry Potter, walking a beeline. Right in his direction. 

***

Harry's head buzzed. He knew it was so simple, but with Slytherins sitting around his target, it would make things difficult. That, and Draco was there. Draco was definitely the clincher.

He turned around, making sure Ron and Hermione were strategically placed to see the whole scene. And there was a huge gap on the side closest him for him to bring Draco to sit in.

Harry took a deep breath, nearly choking on all the oxygen he inhaled, and stopped right next to Draco.

"Er, Draco?"

Draco sure took his time turning around. "Yes, Potter?"

"I need to talk to you." The Slytherins looked on expectantly, "In private."

"If you insist, Potter." Draco shrugged to his housemates and was dragged off by Harry.

Every person at the Slytherin table visibly blanched. And anyone else who was listening was just as shocked.

Draco was dragged to the Gryffindor table. 

"Now that you have me in "private," what is it you wanted?"

"I wondered, _Draco_, if you'd accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend." There was a unison choke from the Gryffindor table and a high-pitched squeak, presumably from Ron.

"Of course, _Harry_. In fact, I have a favor for you, if that's alright."

Harry looked confused. _A favor? This wasn't in the plan! Oh god. My doom was impending from the beginning. But what's he planning?_ "Uhm. Sure."

With that, Draco sucked in as much air as he could and leaned forward. He places his lips on Harry's. _Oh my god._ It was short and sweet, with hardly time to lick Harry's lips. 

***

After he'd said yes to this favor, he didn't have time to regret it. In fact, he hardly had time to respond to the kiss Draco placed on his lips. It had been unexpected, yes. But it had also been everything he'd hoped for since the beginning of the term.

Everything he'd wanted and prayed for, even dreamed about had been culminated in his first kiss from a guy. _From the most unlikely guy at Hogwarts._

Harry giggled, swooped down a picked something up from the table. 

"Draco, I have something for you."

It was Draco's turn to stutter. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry held out a slightly bent spoon for Draco to take. "A commemorative spoon. I remember you saying something about my wit? Maybe this will dispel those thoughts?"

Draco looked strange, a smile pulling at the sides of his mouth. He took the cutlery from Harry's hand, and hardly noticed when Ron knocked him to the ground.

__

Fin.


End file.
